Country Roads

While driving past a corn field, a large red bull was spotted, lazily grazing in the lush corn without a care in the world. My husband and I talked about who the bull probably belonged to, but couldn’t come with a clue. My husband assured me that before dark, the owner would come and direct the bull back to a pasture or lot where he belonged.

The next day, a visitor stopped by and mentioned she had noticed a large red bull out in a corn field. Apparently, the owner either came and got the bull but it escaped again, or it had been roaming around the same corn field for the past two days. It seems once a bull has found his way out of the pasture or lot, it is hard to keep him in, especially when there are greener, delicious fields close around.

This escaped bull brought back memories of a bull we once owned years ago, while living on the farm near Burr Oak. This bull was a large black bull. We hadn’t owned him long when it somehow found a way to make a break for it. My husband drove all around and finally found the bull about a mile away in with the neighbor’s cattle. The bull was quickly sorted out and brought home. Two days later we received a call from a farmer north of us about five miles and the bull had been spotted, slowly walking up a dirt roadway. Our youngest son was around junior high age at this time, and he got a laugh from his escapable bull. He quickly named him after a movie he had seen, “Free Willy.” The name fit, as the movie was about a loveable black whale who enjoyed being free. Our “Free Willy” was again back home. This time he was placed in the fenced lot.

Sure enough a day later, Free Willy, made a break again and some how got through or over the fence. Late that afternoon, my husband and son went searching for the carefree bull, but neighbor after neighbor said they had not seen him. As the sun went down, the search party came home empty handed. The plan was to continue the search the next morning.

The next morning my husband stopped at a rancher’s place who didn’t live on his farm but had came out to check on his cows that morning. When asked if he’d seen the missing bull, he said he had but didn’t know who it belonged to. Someone he knew had seen the bull too and decided to load it up into a trailer and take it home. He said he’d try to make calls to find the owner. My husband thought that sounded a little fishy and asked where this man lived. The man lived 50 miles to the south. After finding out where exactly he lived, my husband drove down with our trailer to bring the bull back home. Thankfully, the bull was gathered without incident and was brought back home.

That last adventure must have taught Free Willy a lesson, as after that last escape he seemed content to remain where he was placed. Maybe that or he’d heard my husband tell me the next time he escaped, Free Willy would be headed for the sale barn.

 

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